| Since but empty walks
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| That brazil walks like a little ant
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| As if we were walking
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| Like someone doing a smackdown
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| As if time had stopped
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| And ball stayed on the line
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| Since Dom Pedro I Brazil is still the third world
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| Since Dom Pedro II the Brazilian is still Brazilian
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| Sugarcane, coffee, slave colony
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| The mud that soils the foot, the money that wets the hand
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| There are more than five hundred years of unpunished damages
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| Under the hood above the laws
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| Worldly humans more defendants than kings
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| Indians, Africans, Portuguese lord
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| Brazil has recovered, but still walks like a snail
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| In the same... In the same
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| Without zeal, slave quarters avala a favela
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| Much more than they are
|
| Appeals from speech, from the bullet that shuts up and reveals
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| Much more than sound
|
| Embola, packs the bullet and with gala it doesn't freeze
|
| seek revelation
|
| Na bol, or in the bullet, or rebola, or rebela favela
|
| search revolution
|
| Slum
|
| search revolution
|
| Slum
|
| search revolution
|
| Slum
|
| search revolution
|
| From a long time ago, a long time «back»
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| Almost since but vaz it never had a time, nor a voice
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| Many against few pros
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| No armani or hugo boss
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| But for him, damn the boys
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| Between heretics and heroes
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| From slums to lighthouses
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| Oppressed like the Indians by the Portuguese and the Spanish
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| So many times that more than months
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| After the story changes and he becomes fierce
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| Now seen as the executioner of society
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| In crime
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| Gun in hand brother, he has authority
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| At twenty he already owns the city
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| With enough evil to cause calamity
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| So go, shoot chest, aim straight
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| Take a deep breath and show the world your anger and spite
|
| Makes your voice prevail through a rifle
|
| I think now finally someone heard you
|
| Without zeal, slave quarters avala a favela
|
| Much more than they are
|
| Appeals from speech, from the bullet that shuts up and reveals
|
| Much more than sound
|
| Embola, packs the bullet and with gala it doesn't freeze
|
| seek revelation
|
| Na bol, or in the bullet, or rebola, or rebela favela
|
| search revolution
|
| Slum
|
| search revolution
|
| Slum
|
| search revolution
|
| Slum
|
| Ball plus one «back»
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| Ball at the boy's foot
|
| Doesn't know if he traffics, sings rap or plays football
|
| Bullet in the lighthouse, bullet for the west
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| Clack, clack, boom, boom
|
| And another body on the sheet
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| Wanted by the CIA or Interpol
|
| He is ibope, even bope has already blacklisted him
|
| But it's because of your hip rop top
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| That there's no stop, nobody catches you
|
| Not even when «the cop arrives»
|
| Swapped aberetta for books, paper and a pen
|
| And now the kid is a lot of bullshit
|
| Every letter, every round above the ring
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| Wherever he goes, he's like gandhi and Martin luther king
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| no bloodshed
|
| Still, they won't want him to be angry
|
| Making use of the mind, powerful ammunition
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| Smart favela, look what a dangerous mix
|
| So go, shoot in the head, aim straight
|
| Take a deep breath and show the world your lyre and concept
|
| Makes your voice prevail through a microphone
|
| Now they'll have to listen to you, mouth on the trombone
|
| Without zeal, slave quarters avala a favela
|
| Much more than they are
|
| Appeals from speech, from the bullet that shuts up and reveals
|
| Much more than sound
|
| Embola, packs the bullet and with gala it doesn't freeze
|
| seek revelation
|
| Na bol, or in the bullet, or rebola, or rebela favela
|
| search revolution
|
| Slum
|
| search revolution
|
| Slum
|
| search revolution
|
| Slum
|
| search revolution
|
| Yeah... There are two ways to change that there
|
| Information is the most powerful weapon
|
| Well, no one takes away from you, brother
|
| So the question is: Or do you rebel or rebel? |
| Hey favela? |